


i can keep you warm

by thatworldinverted



Series: Rage and Ruin [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Fluff, M/M, Murder, Serial Killer Derek, Serial Killer Stiles, Serial Killers, murder date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 05:05:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1886157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatworldinverted/pseuds/thatworldinverted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They turn into the park, boots scuffing through the last of the fall leaves. The light’s fading fast, twilight darkening into thick, wintery shadows. This is Stiles’ favorite time of year, when breath snaps in the cold silence and he can watch it fade away to nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i can keep you warm

**Author's Note:**

> _Rabbit, my claws are down so don't be afraid,_  
>  I can keep you warm as long as you just try to be brave.
> 
>  
> 
> -Young Heretics

“We’re here for my present, right? Right? What is it?” 

Mid-December, and Stiles’ breath steams out over the lid of an Americano. He’s bundled into a wool coat, leather gloves, knit scarf a shock of scarlett around his throat. At his side, Derek’s only concessions to the cold are the way his fingers curl around his Starbucks cup, and the beanie Stiles dragged onto his head. 

“Who said I was getting you anything?” 

It would be impossible for Derek’s tone to get drier, but Stiles can see the smile curling the edge of his lips. Beacon Hills looks like a postcard this close to Christmas: lights are strung through the trees down Main Street, shoppers bustle with arms full of bags, carolers in the park. 

Derek reaches out to tangle their fingers together. His skin is warm even through Stiles’ gloves. Stiles uses the grip to pull them closer together in a blatant attempt to steal an extra bit of body heat.

“You know you want to tell me.” 

“How am I supposed to know what to get you? It’s two days before Christmas and you haven’t told me what you wanted.” 

They turn into the park, boots scuffing through the last of the fall leaves. The light’s fading fast, twilight darkening into thick, wintery shadows. This is Stiles’ favorite time of year, when breath snaps in the cold silence and he can watch it fade away to nothing. 

“Who are you, Santa? You’re my soulmate, I shouldn’t have to make a list.” He pouts his lower lip out to watch the way Derek’s eyes flick to his mouth. 

“Says the guy who’s changed his major three times in six months. Eclectic doesn’t begin to describe your tastes, Stiles.” 

“Come on, Derek, what’d you get me, what’d you get me? It’s going to drive me _crazy_.” 

Their grins are matched at that, wide and a little manic. 

“Alright, fine.” He plucks the coffee cup from Stiles’ hand, setting them down on a park bench. “Close your eyes.” 

Stiles can feel Derek move behind him in the dark, hands coming up to cover his eyes. Warm breath puffs over his ear and he shivers with delight. 

“It’s been a while since we had a chance to play, hasn’t it? So I thought we’d do a little shopping.” Derek’s hands pull away. “Open your eyes.” 

He blinks into the night, taking in the park as if it was brand new, wandering couples thrown into hazy relief by the lamplight. 

“Pick whichever one you want and it’s yours. Anything.” 

“Anything? Really? I _love_ you.” Neck craned, he presses a kiss to Derek’s lips. He never really doubted Derek would choose the perfect gift. Even without the bond, Derek knows him better than anyone. Better than Scott, these days. 

Excitement builds in his joints, itches up his arms and down into his fingertips. They’ve had to be so patient lately, so careful while Stiles has been away at school. Beacon Hills is one thing, but it wouldn’t do to have mysterious disappearances follow him to Berkeley. It’s not the same when they’re not together, anyway. Suddenly his blood is pounding, ready ready _ready_. 

Derek takes in a deep breath, fingers tightening around Stiles’ shoulders, catching and returning the thrill. It thrums along the bond, the fine wire that underpins their connection. 

Stiles’ head turns one way, then another, taking in everything on offer. 

“There’s so much to choose from; what are you in the mood for?”

“It’s your present, you pick.” 

“I think... hmm...” 

It’s been too long, everything looks good. Muscles flex against his back and suddenly he knows; it’s not about whatever toy they choose to play with tonight. The last month apart has been too long. Necessary, as Stiles ploughed single-mindedly through his finals, but unacceptably dull. He’s missed Derek, missed his warmth, the smell of him, missed the taste of blood fresh-layered over sweat.

“There isn’t anything in particular you want? I thought you’d want something special for our-” 

Stiles turns when Derek’s voice cuts off abruptly. 

“Were you seriously about to point out that this is our first Christmas together?” Derek’s cheeks are already pinked from the cold, but if they weren’t, Stiles is pretty sure he’d be blushing. “Oh my god, how _adorable_ are you? Ugh, I can’t even take it sometimes.”

“Do you want to make fun of me or do you want to pick something out before it gets any later?”

“I want to make fun of you, obviously.” 

Derek growls and snaps his teeth at Stiles’ earlobe, but fondness wells up in the back of Stiles’ head, where their bond lives. 

“Yeah, yeah, Captain Tightpants, I’m looking. Come on, walk and talk, dude.” 

Cuddled up together, they look like any other couple in the park. Stiles smiles brightly as the Jankowskis stroll by, a tiny couple that run the Sheriff’s favorite organic bakery. He can’t pick them, obviously. It’s the only healthy food his dad eats voluntarily. 

“What about him,” he asks, head bobbing towards a tall, well-built guy. “Could be fun, looks like he’d put up a fight.” 

“Ugh, he smells weird. I don’t want that in my nose all night.” 

“Mmmkay.” 

Stiles snags his coffee cup and clambers up to perch on the back of the bench. 

“Eenie, meenie, miney...” he says, counting people off in turn. 

“Stiles-”

“I’m looking, dude, I’m looking, it’s not Goldilocks up in here, okay-”

“No, _idiot_ ,” and Derek’s eyeroll is practically audible, “what about her?” 

Strawberry-blonde hair spills out from underneath a soft knit cap, catching the light from the street lamp. Long legs in black tights and impractical heels. 

“Derek.” His throat clicks as he swallows. 

Nobody touches Stiles’ friends- not even Stiles. He wouldn’t, ever. But he can’t say he hasn’t thought about it, either, never considered the perfect way to take each one of them apart. Allison’s screams. Blood welling against Isaac’s pale skin. He finds himself daydreaming about them sometimes when he’s bored at school and he hasn’t seen Derek in a while. 

The dreams always end the same way, in a sticky spill he sucks off his fingers afterward. 

“Yeah. Her.” 

He makes sure to drop his cup in the recycle bin as they trail the girl out of the park.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "I Know I'm a Wolf," by the Young Heretics. 
> 
> A million and one thanks, as always, to my precious and most perfect beta, [jacyevans](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jacyevans).
> 
> Want updates on this series? Cookies? Pretty pictures of pretty people? Come find me on [tumblr](http://thatworldinverted.tumblr.com).


End file.
